Operation Puddin'break
by Christine M. Greenleaf
Summary: A sequel story taking place after the events of "Batman: Arkham Knight." Major spoilers for the game - please don't read if you haven't played the it yet/don't want to know how it ends. :-) Thanks to Max000 for the Children of Ivy!
1. Chapter 1

**Operation Puddin'break**

At least the bats had gone.

Jonathan Crane was extremely grateful for this when he woke up one morning without their shrieks and squeaks, and their claws scratching at his body and brain.

For a moment, that was all he could focus on – on the relief of being free of the bats at last. At being free of the nightmares, the maddening nightmares that gave him no rest, no peace, so that he felt he would either die or go crazy…

And that's when he realized he was locked in a cell. A not unusual occurrence for him, mind, as his past came flooding back with a rush – his persona as the Scarecrow, his attacks of fear toxin on thousands of people, his great plan to hold Gotham City hostage with the help of the Arkham Knight, to turn it into a City of Fear and destroy the Batman…his great plan that had all ended in failure.

Well, not quite, he thought, as he remembered how he had had Batman at his mercy, how he had unmasked him and showed the world the true face of its hero, Bruce Wayne. Nothing but a man, like any other, not a savior, not a legend, nothing. And he had injected Bruce with his fear toxin, breathless with anticipation and the warm glow of victory when he would show the world its hero as a begging, pleading mess…

And then…then something had gone wrong. Something he hadn't expected or counted on…something had happened to Bruce. He didn't know what, but his toxin had no effect. Bruce was not afraid of him. It was impossible, unheard of, and then…

His memories were hazy, but he had somehow been injected with his own toxin. And that was when the bats had appeared, clawing at him, choking him, suffocating him, screaming, screeching, tormenting him with unendurable agony…

And now he was here. Wherever here was, he thought, looking around. Another cell – he was used to those. He wondered how long he had been subjected to the effects of his toxin, in a world of terror separate from reality – he wondered how much had changed in Gotham now that its hero had been revealed. He wondered if anyone feared the Batman anymore.

He heard a clang and a screech, and turned to see his cell door opening. "Dr. Crane?" said a voice, as a figure stepped into the light shining through the bars on the window.

Crane took a step back, stunned to see who this person was. "H…Harley?" he stammered.

It was indeed the late Joker's former accomplice, Harley Quinn, except she looked nothing like herself. Crane remembered Harley as happy, carefree, and bubbly, wearing some eccentric costume or other. But the woman standing in front of him now was modestly dressed, wearing a lab coat over a plain red blouse and black skirt. Her blonde hair was done up in a tight, sensible bun, and she wore large, round glasses around her wide, blue eyes, rather than a black jester's mask.

She pointed to her nametag. "I'm Dr. Quinzel, Dr. Crane. I'll be handling your sessions. How are you feeling today?"

"Like I'm…losing my mind," stammered Crane. "Harley, what…how…why…what's happened?"

"You'll have to be more specific, Dr. Crane," she replied, calmly.

"What's happened…to you?" he asked. "You…you're looking very different than when I saw you last, leading the Joker's gang…"

Harley smiled grimly. "I understand that things might seem strange to you, Dr. Crane, having been out of it for so long. But I would prefer it if you didn't remind me of certain events in my past, and if you would kindly refrain from mentioning the name of that dead, hideous psychopath."

"W…what?" stammered Crane. "But…but you love the Joker, you always…"

"I'm glad he's dead," interrupted Harley, coldly. "After what he did to me. After he twisted my mind, and used me for his own selfish ends, and tried to ruin my life. It was nothing less than he deserved."

Crane couldn't believe what he was hearing. Harley would never have said such things, never in a million years.

Harley sighed heavily at the expression of shock on his face. "I suppose you are owed an explanation. Please sit down," she said, gesturing to the bench against the wall.

Crane obeyed. "After…the Batman was revealed by you to be Bruce Wayne, he…disappeared," said Harley. "Most people thought he was dead – he staged an explosion at his manor to make it look like he had died, so nobody would try to find him. So he could protect those closest to him. That's why he put on the mask in the first place. After he disappeared, Gotham…changed. Everything changed. It was like some sort of spell had been lifted. Some of the supercriminals left – without Batman to pit their skills against, there was no point in the game. The...Joker always said something of the kind would happen. He said that's why he would never kill Batman. Because the game would be over."

She sat down next to him. "Well…the game was over for me. Without…the Joker's influence, and without Batman to turn my hatred against, I…I realized how crazy it all was, everything I had been, everything I had fought for. I wanted to start over again, rehabilitate myself, make myself good again. So I did. I passed all my therapy sessions, I renewed my medical degree, and I got a job here, at Wayne Asylum for the Criminally Insane – Bruce left enough money in his will for a new place to be built, to house the remaining supercriminals and various other incurables. I'm a normal, productive member of society again. And I've never been so happy."

Crane studied her, studied the calm, serene, sincere expression on her face. It seemed so wrong on Harley's face. The story she had told him sounded all wrong – that wasn't what he had wanted for Gotham at all. He had wanted the city to collapse without its hero, to destroy itself in chaos, crime, and fear. His failure was even more horrible than he could have imagined. And the consequences had been horrible not just for him, but for Harley as well.

"I'm so very sorry, my dear," he stammered.

"Sorry?" she repeated. "Why? Without you, I never would have regained my sanity. I'd still be out there killing innocents in some vain hope of avenging a monster who never loved me. I'm very grateful to you, Dr. Crane. It's one of the reasons I requested handling your sessions. None of the other doctors were particularly willing anyway."

Crane shut his eyes. "I feel as if…I'm still under the effects of my fear toxin, as if everything I didn't want to happen has happened."

"We're pretty sure it's all out of your system, Dr. Crane," said Harley. "We were worried you wouldn't recover for a long time, though. It's very potent stuff. I'm looking forward to discussing why a man of your intelligence would waste his life designing chemical weapons like that when he has so much more to offer the world. Take a page out of my book if you can, Dr. Crane – life is so much more rewarding when you're helping others, instead of hurting them."

She stood up. "Try to get some rest – I'll see you tomorrow for our first session. I'm really hoping I can help you, Dr. Crane, just like my psychiatrists helped me."

She left, shutting and locking the cell door behind her. Crane stared after her, dumbstruck. "No," he whispered. "No, it doesn't make any sense! It's all wrong! Everything that's happened because of me has been…all wrong."

He fell to his knees, burying his face in his hands. "I didn't want to help anyone! I didn't want to make the world a better place! But I have! Destroying the Batman has made Gotham safer, happier…oh God, what have I done?!"

Harley heard him sobbing down the corridor. She ignored it, staring straight ahead as she left the cell block and headed for the door to the asylum. She climbed into her car, driving home past the Pamela Isley Memorial Gardens on Miagani Island.

She entered her apartment, a tastefully decorated, normal looking series of rooms. Entering her bedroom, she took off her lab coat, hanging it up in the closet, and then pulled her hair out of its bun, letting it hang down. She approached her mirror, a long, floor length piece of glass carved into a diamond pattern, and gently pushed it to one side, to reveal a small, secret room, barely big enough to stand in.

Inside the room were pictures, from floor to ceiling, pictures of the Joker, covered in lipstick kisses. Candles decorated a small shrine against the wall where a TV screen played footage of the Joker's face, on an endless loop.

Harley entered the room, kneeling down in front of the screen and planting her lips upon the grinning face, trailing her tongue down the glass. "Showtime, puddin'," she whispered, beaming.


	2. Chapter 2

"The patient's outside, Dr. Quinzel," came the guard's voice over the intercom in Harley's office.

"Thank you – please send him in," she said, closing her bag. "Dr. Crane, won't you have a seat?" she said, gesturing to the sofa. "How are you feeling today?"

"Yes…fine…I think," Crane stammered, still gazing at her in disbelief. He had almost convinced himself that yesterday had been a dream. It clearly hadn't.

"That won't be necessary," said Harley, as the guard made to chain Crane up. "You're outside if I need any assistance."

"You sure?" asked the guard.

Harley smiled thinly. "Please believe I am perfectly used to dealing with dangerous patients."

"Yeah, everyone knows," muttered the guard, heading for the door. "Just try not to sleep with this one, clown slut."

He slammed the door, and Crane saw Harley bristling, clearly trying to control her temper, although her body shook. "That was…uncalled for," he said, slowly.

"Yes. But not unexpected," retorted Harley. "People say worse things to me every day, after all."

She took a deep breath, wiping her eyes. "It's just been very difficult…trying to reform. Nobody believes you, and everybody keeps constantly reminding you of your past. There is no forgiveness, only suspicion and distrust. You have to be…very strong to endure it."

"Well, you always were that," said Crane. "I remember after…after _he_ died…everyone said you would just curl up and die too. But you didn't. You proved them all wrong."

She smiled. "Well, it's easy to prove idiots wrong, Dr. Crane. I'm sure you know that."

"Indeed I do," he agreed. "But frightening them to death is so much more fun."

"Let's turn our minds to happier things," she said. "Like your therapy."

"Yes, I'm afraid you're only going to be wasting your time, my dear," said Crane. "I have no intention nor desire to reform. I have to undo this terrible mess I've made of Gotham. If I want the legacy of what I accomplished to survive, I have to make sure everyone remembers the man who did it."

"Believe me, Dr. Crane, this is not a waste of time," said Harley, firmly. "I intend to help you more than you can imagine."

"What, by curing me?" he asked with a wry smile. "I'm afraid that particular pipe dream died a long time ago."

She smiled. "Just talk to me, Dr. Crane, please," she said, taking a seat across from the sofa. She reached into her bag and pulled out a notebook, which she opened, propping it up on her lap. "I need you to trust me. Please believe me when I say I can help you, if you just keep talking."

She was gazing at him very earnestly, and he shrugged. "All right. What should I talk about?"

"Start with your earliest memories of your childhood," she said, her hands working behind the notebook screen. "And go from there. Or start with the most recent thing you can remember. Whichever you'd prefer."

"I'd prefer not to dwell on my childhood, if at all possible," he replied. "It was not a pleasant time in my life."

"But your humiliation at the hands of Bruce Wayne was?" asked Harley, continuing to write.

"It was not a humiliation!" snapped Crane. "I made Gotham into a City of Fear! I unmasked its hero! I destroyed its hope!"

"And yet, it survives," said Harley, dryly, adjusting her glasses while she kept writing with one hand. "What did happen at Arkham Asylum? Why didn't your toxin work?"

"I…I don't know," he stammered. "It doesn't make any sense! Something…something happened to Wayne, he…he changed, but…but he didn't change! It wasn't a physical thing it was…a mental thing…something in his mind changed…he was…different."

"Different how?" asked Harley. Before Crane could respond, she prompted, "Like he changed into someone? Someone more…crazy? Random? Making jokes? More…sadistic?"

"…yes," stammered Crane. "How did you…"

"Your unmasking of Batman was broadcast live on every news channel in Gotham, and around the world," said Harley, smiling, her hands still working. "It's done the rounds on YouTube. Everyone in the world has seen it at this point."

"It wasn't the first time I'd seen him change that night," said Crane, quietly. "On Stagg's airship, when he came to confront me about the Cloudburst, he…transformed somehow. In the same way - not in body, but in mind. He started unleashing the worst brutality on the militia – he nearly killed all of them and…he was somehow amused by it."

He saw tears come to Harley's eyes. "I'm sorry, have I said something wrong?" he asked.

"No," she said, wiping away her tears. "No, I just…sympathize. It must have been awful for those poor soldiers. And for you to witness, of course."

He smiled. "I'm no stranger to brutal sights, believe me, my dear. But I had never known the Batman to be that sadistic. It was like he was…a completely different person. That's the only way to describe what happened on the airship, and at the asylum. Like he became a completely different person."

"A homicidal lunatic," murmured Harley. "A murderous psychopath with a wicked sense of humor. A heartless monster."

"Yes…quite…are you all right, my dear?" asked Crane, gently. She had begun crying again, and she struggled to control her breathing.

"I'm fine," she said, forcing a smile. "Fine. So tell me more. Talk about anything you like."

"Did they ever find out who this Arkham Knight character was?" asked Crane. "He appeared to loathe the Batman with every fiber of his being, but he showed up at the asylum to rescue him…"

"No, he's…not been seen since," said Harley. "Although there are rumors that this new vigilante running around town is him. People call him the Red Hood. But he's not like Batman was. He kills."

"Is there…a new Batman?" asked Crane, slowly. "A new protector of this city?"

Harley shook her head slowly. "There hasn't needed to be one since the supercriminals left. Crime is...something the police handle, for the most part. Of course there are always going to be a few crazies running around, this Red Hood among them. But it's a lot safer now than it used to be here. A young, single woman like me can actually walk alone to the Pamela Isley Memorial Gardens and not be afraid of getting attacked."

"Ah yes, the…Pamela Isley Memorial Gardens," growled Crane. "Yes, this city lost two heroes that night. One of them a very unexpected hero. Not to speak ill of the dead, my dear, I know she was close to you…"

"She wasn't close to anyone human," interrupted Harley. "She didn't save this city for them. She saved it for her plants. I knew Red. She didn't change at the end – she just couldn't let you kill her babies. She wasn't going to stand idly by and let a man do that," she said, with a wry smile. "Even if saving them meant aligning herself with her hated enemy."

"There are so many things I should have accounted for, but didn't. So many things I would have done differently," sighed Crane. "But we can't turn back the clock. I will never have such an opportunity for mass terror again. My only regret is that I wasted it."

Harley nodded, continuing to write. "I'm sorry if you were expecting some form of repentance or contrition…" began Crane.

"No," interrupted Harley, writing something and underlining it. "No, I wasn't."

She turned the notebook around to Crane suddenly, and he read these words: _The rooms are bugged and filmed._ _Don't react, but get ready to run._

Crane stared at them, astonished, and then looked up at Harley, who smiled suddenly. And for the first time, he recognized Harley Quinn's smile.

Then she raised the gun, which she had been building and putting together from harmless bits of gear in her bag while Crane had been talking. She fired a bullet into the security camera. "Come on, hurry," she said, grabbing his arm and racing toward the door. "We have about twenty seconds until the guy monitoring the cameras sees something's wrong, and a minute until the guard gets back from his break – he always takes it during my sessions."

She threw open the door, racing down the hall with Crane trailing after her. "Dr. Quinzel, what…" began a passing doctor, but she fired the gun into his skull, giggling.

"Oh, that takes me back!" she gasped. "Keep up, Johnny!"

She ran down the corridor, reaching a door at the end of the hall and punching a code into a keypad. The door unlocked and she reached inside, tossing something at Crane. "Here. Do what you do best," she said.

Crane caught the vial, staring at it in disbelief. "Fear toxin," he gasped. "But how…"

"Don't ask questions – just use it!" shouted Harley, firing shots at the guards who were coming at them from all sides.

"You'll be affected…" began Crane.

She held up her wrist to reveal a shot scar. "Made myself an immunity to it – just do it!"

He nodded, smashing the vial on the ground and releasing the toxin into the air.

In an instant, the faces of the guards changed to terrified ones. Some ran screaming from the building, some attacked others, some curled up and rocked in a corner. As the gas spread throughout the asylum, Crane heard more screams and cries. He shut his eyes, taking a deep breath to savor the moment.

"Nothing like the scent of fear," he murmured.

"Yeah, people crapping themselves is the best," said Harley, sarcastically. "Let's beat it."

They strode toward the exit, ignoring the shaking, shivering, screaming employees they passed. "Harley, you became a doctor again, you got a job here, you organized therapy sessions with me, and it was all just an act?" asked Crane. "Why?"

Harley shrugged. "I needed info from the records kept in here. I needed their trust. And I needed you. Busting people outta an asylum is a lot easier when you're a doctor, not an inmate. Trust me, I've done both."

"What do you need me for?" he asked. "What could possibly be worth all this effort on your part?"

Harley grinned. "What's always been worth everything to me, Johnny? Mr. J. I'm gonna get my puddin' back."


	3. Chapter 3

"Now let me get this straight," said Crane as he took a seat in the hideout Harley had prepared in advance. "You're going to bring back the Joker? A dead man?"

"He ain't dead," snapped Harley, taking off her labcoat and unpacking her bag full of her usual clown memorabilia. "He's alive. Inside Bruce Wayne's mind."

Crane stared at her. "What are you talking about?"

Harley sighed, reaching into her pocket and pulling out her phone. "Here. Watch the footage online of you injecting Brucie with the fear toxin. Watch what happens to his eyes."

"His eyes?" repeated Crane, taking the phone from her. "I don't understand…"

He trailed off. "They…changed to green," he murmured. "But that doesn't mean…"

"Yeah, it does!" snapped Harley. "It all fits! That's why he went crazy on the airship, and in the asylum! That was my puddin' taking control of him!"

She pulled her hair out of its bun, putting it up into pigtails. "Look, back in Arkham City, Mr. J poisoned Batsy and a buncha other people. Sent his infected blood all over the city. Most of the infected people, Batsy managed to find a cure for after Mr. J's death. But some he didn't. Five people had the blood trapped inside them, and it mutated them. Changed them. Into the Joker. One of these guys, Henry Adams, got in contact with me to tell me this – took me to the place where Batsy was keeping 'em all locked up. We hatched a plan to set 'em all free. At least, I thought that was the plan. Turns out this guy was double-crossing me – killed the others to eliminate the competition – you saw the bodies when you came to the film studios to get Bird Boy. I'm still kinda mad you kept me locked up in there, by the way."

"I told you at the time, it was safer for you," retorted Crane. "I thought with the reveal of the Batman's identity, we'd have chaos on the streets. I didn't want you getting hurt."

"I appreciate the concern, Johnny, but I coulda handled myself," retorted Harley. "And at least I would've been in the loop on the whole Bruce Wayne thing. Although considering Robin called Batsy Bruce in front of my face, I guess I coulda put two and two together, and discovered Batsy's secret identity before it was cool. Not like I cared, though. Anyway, Henry also killed himself when he was confronted with Batsy, and his eyes changed green. Because Batsy was the last Joker, and the most perfect specimen of all. That's why he went crazy on the airship. That's why your toxin didn't work in the asylum. It was all because of my puddin' inside him, taking him over, trying to get out."

"So why didn't he?" asked Crane. "How did Batman defeat him?"

Harley shrugged. "I dunno. Must have been some battle in Batsy's mind, though. Enough to drive anyone else crazy, except a boring, miserable party pooper like him. But I know Mr. J's still in there, alive. And as long as he's alive, I've got hope I can bring him back. He's just locked up, and there ain't a cell yet that can keep me from him."

Crane nodded slowly. "And how on earth…are you proposing to break him out of Bruce Wayne's mind?"

"By talking to a guy who can get inside people's minds," said Harley. "An old friend of yours, Johnny."

Crane was silent. "But Harley, he…hasn't been seen since Arkham City. And he hasn't been the same in…a long time."

"The last person he spoke to before he left Gotham was you," said Harley. "That's what the records at the asylum said. They said they had no idea of his current whereabouts. But you might."

Crane looked at her. "This is why you broke me out? To give you that information?"

"It's the least you can do to return the favor," said Harley, shrugging. "And if you wanted to accompany me to rescue Mr. J, you'd be welcome. If I know Brucie, he won't surrender without a fight."

"How do you even know Bruce Wayne is still alive?" asked Crane. "You say his death was staged, but you don't know that…"

"Because Bats was obsessed with never killing anyone," retorted Harley. "Like fanatically obsessed. So do you honestly think he'd just kill himself and his butler? No matter what the cause, he'd never sacrifice a life. He's out there somewhere with my puddin', and I'm going to find them. With your help."

Crane sighed heavily, putting his head in his hands. "I don't know when the last time you saw him was, Harley, but Jervis is…much changed. I don't know what they did to him in Arkham, I don't know what Strange did to his mind, but…it was horrible. It broke him, ruined him. I thought he didn't even recognize me – he didn't seem to know anyone."

He stood up, pacing slowly. "After I was mauled by Killer Croc in the sewers beneath the asylum, I was barely alive. I grabbed hold of a crate of Titan and just…floated. I don't know for how long or where I went or…I was found at last by Jervis. He took me to Arkham City. He found a surgeon…Mr. Elliot, in fact, to rebuild my face. Or to build it anew into what you see now. Jervis was kind to me. But he didn't seem to remember…anything about the asylum, or our friendship, or…or how he never really hurt anyone. He killed now. I watched him kill, women who…who weren't Alice. He could never find Alice. And that drove him mad, truly mad. Violently mad."

Harley snorted. "You think I'm afraid of the Mad Hatter?"

"A homicidal lunatic who can control and manipulate minds? Only a fool wouldn't be afraid of that," retorted Crane. "And you're not a fool, Harley."

"No," she agreed. "But I am determined to get my puddin' back, however it takes. Nothing is gonna stop me, not the Mad Hatter, not you, and not the whole goddamn world if it comes between me and him."

She pulled out her classic jester costume. "You do know where he's hiding out, don't you?" she asked.

Crane nodded slowly. "Yes. And if you want to risk your neck, I suppose I can't stop you. But it seems like a fool's hope to me. Even if Jervis is somehow able to get inside Wayne's mind, what makes you think he can find the Joker? And what makes you think the Joker can even be freed, or take control of Wayne again? What makes you think you'll even be able to find Wayne? This whole mission seems to have a very slim chance of success."

Harley shrugged. "As long as there's a chance to bring him back, that's good enough for me. I've been without my puddin' for too long. Can't live without him. Everything I've done since I realized he was alive has been to bring him back. Batsy and Robin, they locked me up after the fiasco at the film studios – they argued in front of me about what Batsy should do, being the last Joker. Either they didn't think I could hear, or they didn't think I would care, but in that instant, I made a vow to free my puddin' from his horrible prison, assuming he couldn't free himself, of course. I mean, can you imagine how awful it must be to be stuck inside of the mind of someone as boring and miserable as Batsy? It's gotta be a living hell. I can't bear to think of my puddin' in there," she said, tears in her eyes.

She wiped them away hurriedly. "Anyway, I'm gonna change, and then you're gonna take me to see Jervis Tetch," she said, grabbing her costume and heading for the door. "And Operation Puddin'break can begin."

"Operation…Puddin'break?" repeated Crane. "Must we call it that?"

Harley shrugged. "That was my name for breaking all the Joker infected out. Seems only fair that we use it to break the last one out. Plus I think it's kinda a cute name, don't you?"

"I'm afraid I'm not an expert on the subject of cute," said Crane, dryly.

"Well, trust me, it is," retorted Harley. "Just like my puddin'. My precious, precious puddin', who's soon to be here with me again!" she sighed, leaving the room. "I can't wait!"

Crane rolled his eyes. His own ambitions ran slightly higher than some wild goose chase to break a violent psychopath out of another violent psychopath's mind. But right now, he figured it was best to align himself with Harley. If she managed to bring the Joker back, the chaos he would bring to Gotham would be a fertile groundwork in which to plant his own seeds of fear. And if she didn't, Crane was no worse off. And he did owe her a favor for the escape, and Crane was nothing if not a gentleman. A homicidal gentleman who had frightened masses of innocent people to death, but a gentleman nonetheless. Taking her to see the Mad Hatter was the least he could do. He only hoped they would both survive it.


	4. Chapter 4

"What the hell is this place?" asked Harley, as she climbed out of the car and stared at the overgrown, abandoned scene in front of her.

"It used to be an attraction called Storybook Land," said Crane. "It was a sort of family theme park where you could walk through illustrated scenes from fairy tales and nursery rhymes."

"And Wonderland?" asked Harley. Crane nodded.

"It was a special place to Jervis, for obvious reasons. And because he took his Alice there for a date once before…before it all went wrong."

"What did happen with that?" asked Harley as they approached the iron gate overgrown with ivy, and with a creepy, rotting figure of Humpty Dumpty on top.

"She married someone else," said Crane. "Someone young and handsome and charming. It broke his heart, and drove him mad. I find such affairs of the heart usually end in tragedy and heartbreak, which is why I choose to avoid them."

Harley smiled sadly. "Wouldn't have traded my tragedy and heartbreak for the world, Johnny. Love can be painful, but it's the kinda pain that makes life worth living. It's how you know you're alive. It's what it means to be alive. Such exquisite, pleasurable pain."

"Believe me, my dear, I've had enough pain in my life without adding love into the mix," retorted Crane. "Emotional as well as physical."

"I'm sorry about what happened to your face," said Harley. "And your leg – you ok to walk? This place looks pretty hazardous," she said, nodding at the loose roots of trees, thickets of weeds, and scattered debris.

"Oh yes, it doesn't hurt anymore," he said, nodding at the brace on his leg. "But I will have a permanent limp."

"Killer Croc ain't been seen around since Arkham City either, but if you wanna go after him for what he did to you after we rescue Mr. J, I don't blame you," said Harley. "Maybe I can talk Mr. J into helping out too."

"Thank you, Harley, but I'm perfectly capable of executing revenge on my own," said Crane.

"Really? Cause that whole revenge on Batman thing kinda failed miserably," said Harley.

"And that was because I chose not to work alone," retorted Crane, nodding. "I united the villains of Gotham, and formed an alliance with that Arkham Knight. It was a case of too many cooks spoiling the broth. That and not learning more about the Arkham Knight before I agreed to work with him. But I figured anyone who hated Batman that much had to be a good choice."

"Nah, anyone who hated Batman that much had to have a history with him," said Harley, shrugging. "And if you got a history with someone, even someone you hate, sometimes you'd regret ending it. I mean, I kinda regret Batsy being gone. Sure, he was a huge pain in the ass, but I couldn't have had my Mr. J without Batman, y'know."

"Yes, he brought so much good to the world," said Crane, with a dry sarcasm that Harley didn't pick up on. "Anyway, I've learned my lesson now – if you want something done right, do it yourself."

"Glad I don't subscribe to that theory, or I never woulda brought you along," said Harley. "And then I wouldn't know where to find Jervis."

"Here," said Crane, as they stopped in front of a display of the hookah-smoking caterpillar, also overgrown with weeds and vines, and on the figure itself, chipped paint and mold. The fake giant, plastic, mushroom next to him had been ripped up, revealing a ladder leading down a hole in the ground.

"Looks…homey," said Harley, staring down at the dark and dripping hole.

"After you, my dear," said Crane, gesturing to the ladder.

Harley took a deep breath and then climbed down into the hole. It was only a few feet, and she landed in a tunnel that stretched away into darkness. The only sound was the constant, slow drip of water from the walls, and the whole place smelled of dirt and mold and...something else very familiar and unpleasant.

Harley took a few steps forward, pulling out a flashlight. She was startled when the light suddenly shone on a half decaying body in the mud, the body of a woman, dressed in a pale blue dress, and the words _Not Alice_ scribbled in blood on her white apron.

She shone the flashlight along the tunnel to see more bodies, all with similar phrases written on them. _Almost Alice, Where is Alice? She's late, late, late…_

"I told you," muttered Crane, as he landed behind her. "He's much changed."

"Understatement of the century," murmured Harley, as they walked along the tunnel and came at last to a door. Crane tried it to find it open, and he and Harley stepped inside the room.

It was empty save for more doors of varying shapes and sizes positioned at random along its circular interior. There was a small table in the center of the room, containing a gold key, a bottle that read _Drink Me_ and a cake that read _Eat Me._

"Jervis?" called Crane, looking around the doors. "Jervis, it's Jonathan. I've brought Harley. You remember Harley, from the asylum?"

A door opened suddenly, and a small man in a green tailcoat and top hat slowly entered the room. He stared at Harley with something like hope in his eyes. "Are you Alice?" he whispered, in a soft voice.

"Uh…no," said Harley, slowly. "I'm Harley Quinn. Remember me, Jervis? The Joker's girlfriend?"

"Alice is…terribly, terribly late," murmured Tetch, ignoring her. "No manners. Most rude. Much like uninvited guests."

"Jervis, I need your help," said Harley. "I need to get inside a guy's mind, to rescue my puddin'. And you're the only guy I know who can get into people's heads."

"Off with their heads," murmured Tetch, quietly. "Off with their heads, the Queen of Hearts bellowed. Snickersnack! Like the Jabberwocky – he left it dead, and with its head, he went galumphing back."

Harley shared a look with Crane. Tetch didn't seem to be engaging with their conversation, or indeed reality at all, and she was about to try a different tactic, when Tetch suddenly seized her around the throat, holding up a straight razor, his eyes shining.

"You _are_ Alice!" he exclaimed. "Don't think you can hide from me with that clown paint, you naughty girl! Alice! Oh, my Alice, you're here at last! It's been so long and so lonely without you, my Alice, but now we can make it right, can't we? We can make up for lost time! Time is always getting lost, that's why I murdered it in Wonderland! Useless, selfish, late time! Late, just like you, Alice! Late, late, late," he whispered, drawing the blade along her throat.

"Jervis! Let go of her!" shouted Crane, rushing forward and shoving Tetch back. "Stop it! This isn't you!"

"Do not try to keep me from Alice!" shrieked Tetch, slashing at Crane with the razor, who narrowly avoided the blow. "I will cut off the head of anyone who tries, anyone who comes between me and her, my perfect, perfect Alice! I've waited too long and done too much to lose her now! I won't go back to Wonderland without her! I won't!"

"Johnny, it's ok, let me talk to him," murmured Harley, who approached Tetch slowly. "Jervis? I ain't Alice," she said. "But I know…what you're going through. The person I love, my Mr. J, my Alice, he's gone too. Somewhere really far away, where I can't get to him, unless you help me. Otherwise I'm gonna be alone forever, with no hope of ever seeing my Alice again. And you must know what that's like, the fear of being alone forever, the fear that you might never find your true love again. You wouldn't make anyone suffer that, would you?"

She took his hand. "I mean, killing people's one thing – me and Mr. J did that all the time. But making someone live…without the one they love…that's a fate worse than death. And I can't believe you're so far gone that you'll make anyone suffer that. You won't, will you?" she asked, gazing at him with her pleading, blue eyes.

Tetch stared at her, and gently reached out a hand to stroke her cheek. "No, you're not my Alice," he whispered. "And she…she would be so disappointed in me, for what I've done, for who I've become, I…I've gone mad!" he sobbed, bursting into tears suddenly. "And Alice will never love a madman! She'll leave Wonderland and leave me alone forever!"

Harley embraced him gently, shushing him. "Hey, we'll find her," she murmured. "I promise. You help me find my Alice, and I'll help you find yours. Deal?"

"She's so very late, you know," whispered Tetch through his tears. "And time is so interminable without her. It seems almost like it doesn't pass. Like it's always six o'clock, and time for tea. Tea!" he said, brightening instantly as he reached into his coat and pulled out a pocket watch. "Yes, it is teatime! How perfectly marvelous! You will join me, won't you, Harley and Jonathan?"

"You…know who we are?" asked Crane, slowly.

"Of course – you introduced yourselves when you came in," said Tetch, heading for a door. "Now come have some tea and cake and we'll discuss heads and minds and shoes and ships and sealing wax and cabbages and kings and whatever else you want. Perhaps if Alice will not come to me, I will have to go to her. It has been a long time since I left Wonderland, but perhaps a clown and a scarecrow are just the sort of companions for such an adventure. It must be nonsense, after all, and I do enjoy nonsense," he said, beckoning for them to follow.

Harley and Crane shared another look and then obeyed, going through the door after him.


	5. Chapter 5

The room they entered was warm and cozy, with a roaring fire in the grate and a long table laid with tea things. "Do sit down," said Tetch, gesturing to some chairs. "I won't be a moment pouring the tea."

He headed over to the kettle on the fire, pouring the boiling water into a teapot. "Do we take milk and sugar?" he asked.

"Yes, that would be lovely, thank you," said Crane.

"I'll just have to go to the kitchen for those," said Tetch, heading for another door.

"Are you all right?" asked Crane as the door shut.

"Sure," said Harley, shrugging. "Ain't the first time I've had a blade against my throat, and it won't be the last. My puddin' and I used to play that game a lot."

"What game?" asked Crane, puzzled.

"See how hard you can press the blade in before you start screaming," said Harley. "Mr. J was always impressed by my new records," she sighed, wistfully.

Crane opened his mouth to say something, but thought better of it. Tetch re-entered the room with a pitcher of milk and a sugar bowl. "Now drink up," he said, passing around the teapot. "Help yourself to cake and biscuits too."

"This is nice and all, Jervis, but I'd actually like to talk about you helping us find Mr. J," said Harley. "He's been locked up long enough in the hell that is Bruce Wayne's mind."

"Bruce Wayne, Bruce Wayne, twinkle, twinkle, little bat, how I wonder what you're at," sighed Tetch.

"Well, at least you didn't miss that memo," said Harley. "Bet you weren't even late to the party, unlike me."

"I've said I'm sorry for keeping you locked up!" snapped Crane.

"And the lock on the box of Wayne's mind is the lock behind which your Alice is confined?" asked Tetch, in a sing-songy voice.

"That's right," said Harley, nodding. "Think you can break it?"

"Breaking a person out of a mind is not like breaking down a door," said Tetch. "Or falling down a rabbit hole. It's not as easy as that. There are complications, many complications. Some would call it impossible."

"But not you?" asked Harley.

He shrugged. "Sometimes I've believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast. It is after breakfast, being teatime, of course, but time is immaterial in Wonderland. And it would not be the first time I've seen inside the mind of a Bat. The last time there was a watch, and rabbits, falling down a rabbit hole, and a rabbit-bat whose hat I made…the word bat is in rabbit, you know, so a rabbit in a bat is not nonsense, just contrariwise…"

"Just how did you do it?" interrupted Crane. "Get inside Batman's mind, I mean?"

"Complicated, very complicated," said Tetch, sipping his tea. "Chemicals and synapses and rabbits in waistcoats and much, much more."

"But could you do it?" pressed Harley. "If we brought Bruce Wayne here, say…could you do it?"

Tetch said nothing, sipping his tea. "Alice went down the rabbit hole to Wonderland, and through the looking-glass to Looking-Glass World. If she can do that, I can get into Bruce Wayne's mind."

Harley beamed. "Great! We'll find him and I can give you a picture of Mr. J so you'll know who you're supposed to be finding and…"

"The Mad Hatter did not go down the rabbit hole or through the looking-glass," interrupted Tetch. "Alice did."

He looked at her. "You are not Alice, but you are almost Alice, and since Alice is late, terribly, terribly late, perhaps we must settle for sending Almost Alice through the looking-glass."

Harley stared at him. "You mean…you wanna send me into Bruce Wayne's mind to bust out Mr. J?"

Tetch waved his hand. "I am through with minds of all sorts – my mind is lost, and can never be found again. To go into a mind, you must be in possession of a mind, so I cannot go. I have to control the device that sends you into his mind. So it must be you."

"And how does she get out of Wayne's mind, exactly?" asked Crane. "Let alone bring the Joker with her?"

"You demand answers to questions before the thing you're asking the questions of has even come into existence – that is nonsense," said Tetch. "Once I have built the device, you may ask any questions and I will answer them. But before that, you have tasks to do. I must work, and you must find Wayne. You must bring him down the rabbit hole to me, and then I will send Almost Alice through the Looking-Glass to rescue her Alice. For in a roundabout way, that is the only way I can find my Alice. It is clear to me. Is it clear to you?"

"I don't see any scientific basis for any of this…" began Crane.

"This is Wonderland," interrupted Tetch. "Science has no place here, along with sense, logic, and reason. Madness reigns here, madness and nonsense and endless possibility. Nothing cannot be done here, including what you ask."

"We gotta trust him, Johnny," said Harley. "He's the only chance we got to save Mr. J."

Crane nodded slowly. "Fine. But I don't have the faintest idea how we're going to discover the whereabouts of Bruce Wayne. Supposedly dead men don't generally advertise the fact that they're alive."

"Where does one always look for a bat?" asked Tetch. "In caves. Hiding away in the shadows, waiting for the darkness to descend. Sleeping upside down, like Father William standing on his head…"

"Hang on," said Crane suddenly. "If Bruce Wayne was Batman, then that meant the Batcave must have been near Wayne Manor, isn't that so?"

"I guess," said Harley. "But nobody ever found any trace of it, and you couldn't exactly search the Manor for clues after it collapsed in on itself."

"To the foundations, I presume," said Crane. "But under them?"

Harley shook her head. "Nobody ever thought to tunnel under the rubble…it would seem like kinda a stupid thing to do, what with the risk of a cave-in and all…"

"But presumably that's mostly been cleared away in the search for bodies and evidence," said Crane. "Leaving the foundations of the manor intact…and whatever's underneath them."

"You think the Batcave is under there?" asked Harley. "And that Bruce is still hiding out there?"

"Can you imagine a man that dedicated to Gotham City leaving it for any reason?" asked Crane. "He may not be Batman anymore, but the psychology of a man like that is not to just give up, let go, and swan off to Europe or someplace. Even when his old way of protecting Gotham is gone, I'd bet my life on the fact that he's still keeping a watchful eye on his city."

Harley nodded slowly. "It's a start anyway. Jervis, get to work on that device. Me and Johnny are going on a Bat Hunt."


	6. Chapter 6

"It's times like these when I really miss having henchmen," sighed Harley as she and Crane examined the burnt out foundations of Wayne Manor by the light of a full moon. "They could do all the boring grunt work and hard labor. But since all the supervillains left town, it's getting harder and harder to find hired help, even incompetent hired help."

"They were never very competent," said Crane.

"Yeah, but now I long for the days when incompetent was the standard," said Harley. "I tell ya, Johnny, in the long run your little plan to bring down the Bat did more harm than good."

"Yes, for everyone, including myself," agreed Crane. "I should have left well enough alone. The endless struggle against Batman night after night was ultimately futile, but it's better than this."

"Sometimes being stuck in a game is better than being stuck in reality," agreed Harley. "At least the game is fun. Mr. J always said that life was one, big joke, and with him gone…I just can't see the funny side anymore."

There were tears shining in her eyes. Crane lay a hand on her shoulder. "We're going to get him back," he said, gently.

"I know," she said, wiping her eyes. "It's just…been so long. Such a long time, to suffer loneliness and unhappiness and the agony of living every single day…without your heart. Nobody should ever have to suffer that."

Crane nodded, shifting through the debris. "Nobody ever understood," she whispered. "Why I loved him. They all thought I was crazy or…evil, undeserving of pity. Everyone celebrated after he died. I…I had a wake for him, nobody showed up…nobody cared…"

"In my defense, I was out of town…," began Crane.

"I'm not blaming you," she said. "You don't have to make excuses. It's just…bad enough to lose the one you love. But then when nobody cares that he's gone…when nobody sympathizes with you or offers any words of comfort other than 'it's about time,' 'he got what he deserved,' 'he never loved you anyway,'…nobody understood. I got crap from the other crooks, from the henchguys, from…from the so-called good guys who I had to associate with during my doctor days. Well, you heard the guard at the asylum. They called me clown bitch, Joker's whore, the slutty shrink…I endured such horrible, unkind remarks, without one word of sympathy. Even the doctors…they told me they were glad he was gone so I could finally be free of the madness. But the madness…doesn't go away. Just like the pain."

She wiped her eyes again. "The only one who ever understood…was Mr. J. He was the only one who ever understood _me._ Or our love. He could be cruel, sure, cast me off without a second thought…but he'd always take me back. Because he understood me, real me, who can't live without him. That's why I fell in love with him in the first place. All my life I was treated like just another worthless nobody. But Mr. J…he listened to me for a change. He saw something in me that had potential, that he learned to love. And for the first time, I saw that potential in myself. I believed in myself, I loved myself…and I loved him. I always will. And I'll never forget how he made me feel, how he let me be my true self…the Joker's Harley Quinn."

Tears kept trailing down her cheeks, despite her best efforts. Crane looked at her, and then gently embraced her. "I'm sorry for your loss," he whispered.

Harley let out a sob, crying into his shoulder. Crane shushed her, trying to think of something comforting to say. But he couldn't honestly say that the loss of the Joker had come as a huge blow to him. On the contrary, it had allowed Crane to take center stage for once, to give Batman a nemesis who could truly get inside his head and make his deepest fears a reality. But that had all backfired spectacularly. At least if the Joker had been alive, it would have been _his_ failure, not Crane's.

"His loss…affected us all, in some way," he said, thinking this was a diplomatic way of putting it.

"But that's all he is," whispered Harley at last, taking a deep breath and calming herself. "He's just lost. We're gonna find him and get him back. And this ain't the time to go to pieces. We got work to do."

She helped Crane shift the debris. "I think I've found something," he said, moving aside a couple planks, revealing a hole leading down into darkness.

Harley sighed heavily. "Gotta say, when all this is over, I'll be happy never going underground again. I hate getting all muddy, and it makes me feel really claustrophobic."

"Claustrophobia is one of the most common phobias, with around 5-7% of the population suffering from severe cases," said Crane. "As with all phobias, it's an irrational fear, but theories abound as to the reason of its onset, including but not limited to, a reduction in the size of the amygdala, classical conditioning, or a genetic predisposition to…"

"Johnny, really not in the mood for a science lesson right now," interrupted Harley.

"Sorry, when people mention phobias, it just brings it out of me," said Crane. "Let me get the rope, and I'll lower you down."

Harley nodded, staring down into the darkness until Crane returned with the rope. "Are you sure you don't want me to go?" he asked.

"Nah, I got this," she said, tying it around her waist. "Anyway, I might need to make a quick getaway with Brucie, and you can't run very well with your leg brace. Plus in case of any resistance, I think I'm probably a better hand to hand fighter than you."

"All right. I'll be standing by for your signal, then," he said. "Good luck."

"Thanks," she said, as he carefully lowered her down into the hole.

She didn't touch the ground for some time – the cavern they had found was clearly vast. At last, she felt ground beneath her feet and untied the rope from her waist. Her eyes had adjusted to the darkness on her journey down, and now she noticed a faint light coming from somewhere up ahead. She carefully felt her way along the cavern walls, and as she got closer to the light, she heard voices.

"…don't know how to reign him in, Bruce. Barbara and I both sacrificed our honeymoon to stop him, but no luck yet. We're doing everything we can…"

"It's not good enough, Tim," retorted Bruce Wayne. He stood in front of the Batcomputer, which was projecting images of the corpses of criminals with terror fixed on their faces. "He's twisting the Batman into something dark and murderous, something that ruins everything I tried to achieve as Gotham's guardian. I need you to find him, so I can talk him out of this madness. I knew Joker had broken his mind, but I thought…I thought I had helped him get over that before I left. Frightening thugs is fine, killing them is not. And neither is frightening them with Crane's gas."

"Bruce, are you sure it's him?" asked Tim Drake, gently. "Are you sure it's Jason being this new Batman?"

"He's not Batman!" snapped Bruce.

"All right, being this new…vigilante who dresses like a bat?" asked Tim.

"It's got to be," said Bruce. "Just like the Arkham Knight, he's using my image, but a corrupted form of it. Jason didn't mind killing, and this new guy kills. Frightening thugs to death, who before they die babble something about a giant bat attacking them – it's got to be a fear gas hallucination. Jason would have had access to Crane's fear chemical, as the Arkham Knight, so he's replicating it…"

"Maybe it's that Man-Bat creature you found," interrupted Tim. "Y'know, Kirk Langstrom, an actual giant bat-man…"

"No, it's a man who's in full control of what he's doing," said Bruce. "These are deliberate attacks. Kirk couldn't control the bat-creature; this man is targeting criminals. He's deliberately copying me, except he's killing. And I won't let that happen in my town."

"Bruce, maybe you should go back out there," said Tim, gently. "You could help catch him…"

"I can't reveal myself to be alive, Tim," interrupted Bruce. "I won't put you or Barbara in danger again. And you would be, being close to me. You would."

He sighed heavily, sitting down in the chair in front of the Batcomputer. "Alfred will show you the secret way out. Just keep looking, Tim. I'm counting on you."

Tim nodded. "I won't let you down, Bruce," he said, heading for some stairs at the far end of the room.

Bruce Wayne sighed again, staring at the screen. He had thought once he gave up being Batman, his life would be easier. But it was a lot more difficult now, since he had to give orders through people and couldn't be out there getting a piece of the action himself. He had to constantly hide away in his cave, watching crime in Gotham but not being able to stop it. It was a fate worse than death for him.

He had thought about leaving it all behind – actually quitting Gotham to live out the rest of his life on some island somewhere. But in the end, he hadn't been able to abandon his city. He never could, no matter how hopeless it seemed, and no matter how hellish it made his life. He was destined to always be Gotham's guardian.

And at least he didn't have to keep up the billionaire playboy façade anymore. At least now he could devote all his time to crime-fighting, albeit from behind a computer screen. He would be lying if he said he didn't miss the fighting – the intimidation, the shattered bones, the blood…maybe he was more of a sadist than he had thought. Or maybe it was _him_ influencing him again, and making things worse.

Bruce had locked the Joker away deep in his subconscious. But as Crane had said long ago, even drowned, submerged fears would eventually rise to the surface again. And although Bruce knew that Joker couldn't escape from his mind, the fear was always there that maybe somehow he could. No cell could ever hold him back when he was alive, and he lived every day with the small, impossible, but nevertheless nagging suspicion that that was still true.

His thoughts came to an abrupt halt as he suddenly felt a hard blow strike the back of his skull. He whirled around to face his attacker, and was suddenly struck again, temporarily blinding him and making him see stars. As his vision swam in front of his eyes and he fell to the ground, he could just make out a familiar silhouette grinning insanely at him.

"Harley…" he gasped.

"Nighty night, Bats," she murmured, raising the bat again and smashing it down on his skull.


	7. Chapter 7

"Geez, I kinda wish I hadn't hit him so hard, what with Mr. J being inside his head and all," said a familiar voice. "Hope I didn't hurt him."

"Don't worry, my dear. The Joker's likely buried so deep in his subconscious that he didn't even feel it," said another familiar voice.

"But not so deep that we can't burrow down a rabbit hole to reach him," said another.

Bruce Wayne opened his eyes slowly and in dread. He recognized his captors even before he saw the faces of Harley Quinn, Jonathan Crane, and Jervis Tetch staring down at him.

"There's no point in struggling, Mr. Wayne," said Crane. "You're securely restrained."

Bruce saw that this was true – he was strapped to something that looked like an electric chair, with metal restraints around his arms and legs, and a large dome over the head.

"If you're going to kill me, get it over with," he snapped. "Or haven't you learned your lesson about gloating, Crane?"

Crane chuckled dryly. "We're not going to kill you," he whispered. "You are."

"What are you talking about?" demanded Bruce.

"I honestly couldn't have planned a more fitting end to you myself," murmured Crane. "You are about to become everything you fear, everything you hate, everything you tried so hard not to become by not killing anyone. You are going to become a villain."

"You can't force me to kill anyone," snapped Bruce. "You have nothing to threaten me with."

"Of course we do," murmured Crane. "Your allies are still out there – Barbara Gordon, for one, and Harley overheard you talking to her husband, who also apparently works for you. Tim Drake, isn't it? Since the former Police Commissioner Gordon's election to mayor, the papers have reported heavily on his personal and family life. Mayor Gordon, there's another person we can threaten. Then there's your faithful butler, of course, who is no doubt frantic with worry about your abduction from the Batcave. But we don't need to do anything so drastic as to kidnap any of them. You will harm them all soon enough. You will kill them all soon enough. And we won't make you. You'll want to do it."

"You're going to mind control me?" guessed Bruce, nodding up at the metal dome above his head.

"Not quite," said Crane, smiling. "But it does indeed involve your mind, and someone locked inside it."

Bruce stared at him. "You…you know…how?"

"Apparently you talked about it openly in front of Miss Quinn," said Crane, nodding at her. "After the incident at Panessa Studios, an incident that alerted Miss Quinn's suspicions that she could bring the Joker back. Rather careless for the Batman, wasn't it? Or did you think she wouldn't figure it out? Did you, like most people, just dismiss her as an idiot?"

"You'll never find him," growled Bruce. "He's safely locked away, and you can't release him from my head!"

"Indeed we can, Mr. Wayne," murmured Crane. "Or at least, the Mad Hatter can."

"You can't keep him locked away from me," said Harley. "Nobody can keep us apart, especially not some dumb Bat-bully billionaire!"

Bruce gaped at her in disbelief. "Harley, you're cured…they said you were cured! You went back to being a doctor who hated him…"

"You bought that act?" laughed Harley. "Really? You, the World's Greatest Detective? You honestly think I could ever hate my puddin'?"

"I always hoped that one day you'd wake up and see how horrible he was to you, and realize what terrible abuse he put you through, and finally understand that you would be better off without a monster who never loved you," retorted Bruce.

Harley slapped him hard across the face. "You don't know anything about me!" she hissed. "Or us! He loved me. Somewhere in there…he still loves me," she said, studying his eyes.

"I'm not letting him out," growled Bruce, glaring at her. "I'm never letting him out again."

"Yes, you are, Mr. Wayne," murmured Crane. "We have found a way to release him."

"That's impossible," snapped Bruce.

"So many people so certain of what is impossible and what is not," sighed Tetch, checking some wires on the device. "So many people who can't tell sense from nonsense. But then I suppose we are all mad here."

He gestured to an identical chair across the room, with wires in the dome attaching to the dome over Bruce's head. "If you would have a seat, my dear."

Harley obeyed, and Tetch went over to strap her in and check the wires on her device. Crane could recognize slight fear in Harley's eyes (this was new, experimental technology after all, and there was no guarantee of something not going horribly wrong.) But above all was a fierce determination glowing like blue flames – no matter what the risk, she was going through with this.

"We are ready to begin," said Tetch, straightening up and heading over to a control panel. "Through the Looking Glass you go, Almost Alice."

"I'll find him," said Harley, resolutely, glaring at Bruce. "There's no place you can hide him that I won't find him. So enjoy your last few seconds of being you, Brucie, and be prepared to welcome back the Joker."

"Good riddance, I say," agreed Crane.

Harley nodded at Tetch, shutting her eyes. He pressed a sequence of buttons, and the machines began humming. Bruce struggled to free himself, but it was useless – the metal restraints held fast. He heard a sizzle, and then felt an electric shock, and lost consciousness to a blinding flash of light.


	8. Chapter 8

Harley opened her eyes slowly to darkness. She appeared to be in a huge room, so huge she couldn't see the corners of it. From the ceiling hung numerous cages, and a maze of twisting platforms led high up to them. The cells seemed like they stretched on forever, and Harley was wondering how on earth she was going to find Mr. J in this labyrinth. And then suddenly, she heard a familiar, echoing voice singing.

" _And so I'm home in the asylum, ever alone in the asylum, 'No, don't leave me!' I cried, now I'm locked deep inside his subconscious, trapped forever – look who's laughing now. I was the Clown Prince of Crime, he was the next in line, I was him, and he was me, oh, what a Joker he could be! Now the darkness closes in – no one's laughing now. I'm stuck in his head and not laughing, I'd be better off dead and I'm not laughing…_ "

"Mr. J!" shrieked Harley, racing up the stairs toward the sound of the singing.

It stopped suddenly. "Harley?" said the Joker's voice, in disbelief.

"Puddin', where are you?" she called, looking around at all the cages.

"I'm in solitary, pooh – pull the lever!" called Joker.

Harley turned to see a switch on the end of the platform – she raced over to it and pulled it. With a rumble, two huge doors at the end of the room opened, and a cage was pulled out, dropping down onto the platform. It was solid and metal, with a small slit of a barred window at the front.

And Harley suddenly saw his hand come out from between the bars, waving at her. She raced over to him, seizing his hand and planting desperate kisses on it as tears ran down her cheeks.

"Oh, you're real!" she gasped, sobbing. "You're alive!" she said, gazing through the bars at him.

"Pumpkin pie, how did you get in here?" asked Joker, astonished. "How did you find me locked away in Brucie's mind?"

"I'll always find you," she whispered, tears in her eyes as she stared in adoration at his face behind the bars, the face she had longed to see again every day with every piece of her heart, so much so that it hurt. "There's no place they can lock you up that can keep me from you."

"Harley," he whispered, stroking her cheek and gently wiping the tears away. "Oh, Harley. I always knew you weren't a complete waste of space," he murmured, grinning.

She choked on a mixture of a laugh and a sob of relief, pressing her face against the bars. Their lips could just barely touch, but to Harley, the light kiss was the most intense sensation in the world. She had never thought she would taste his lips again.

He pulled away at last, and she sobbed again in relief. "Oh God, puddin', I never thought I'd see you again!" she gasped. "It's been so long…"

"I never thought I'd see anyone again," he said, nodding. "You can't imagine what it's like being trapped in here, locked in a tiny cell in Brucie's dark and gloomy mind. Even if I could bust outta this cage, out there would just be full of more darkness and misery. He's such a brooding, boring, depressing guy. It's a fate worse than death, I'm telling ya, pumpkin."

"It's over now, puddin' – I'm busting you outta here," said Harley, firmly.

"I admire your optimism, pooh," said Joker. "It's hard to be optimistic in here though. The longer you're trapped in here, the more you become as darkly pessimistic as Brucie. It's a daily struggle to keep my positivity and sense of humor alive, let me tell you. But singing helps keep the spirits up, and joke-telling, of course. But there's no audience here, nobody around who appreciates them…"

"I'm here now, puddin'," interrupted Harley. "I appreciate them. And you'll have your audience back, just as soon as we get outta here. All of Gotham will be your playground again."

Joker looked at her. "You're not a hallucination, are you?" he asked. "I've been locked up in here a long time, and people in solitary can sometimes go stir crazy. I never thought it could happen to me, but in Brucie's mind, anything's possible. This whole escape and rescue thing just…sounds almost too good to be true, Harl."

Harley reached into her bag and took out a small explosive with the Joker's face on it. She attached this to the door of the cage, set the timer, and then stepped back, covering her ears. The ensuing explosion blasted the metal door off with a crash, freeing the Joker, who stepped tentatively out into the light.

Harley threw herself into his arms, shoving her mouth into his and kissing him passionately. "It's true, puddin'," she whispered, tears in her eyes. "It's true."

He squeezed her tightly, touching her to make sure she wasn't a hallucination. "It's real," he gasped. "You're real! And you're really gonna bust me outta here! And then…the Joker's gonna be back in town!"

He laughed hysterically, the mad cackle echoing off the empty walls of the huge room. Harley closed her eyes and buried her face in his chest, beaming at the sound of his laugh, the sound she had missed beyond reason. She was actually hearing her puddin' laugh again. It was a miracle, a dream come true, almost too good to be true…

And then she felt something tugging at her, like someone had thrown a rope around her body and was pulling her away. She clung on tightly to Joker, trying to fight against it, but the force was too strong.

"Harley, what is it?" he asked.

"I…I dunno, puddin', but I ain't gonna let it take me!" she shrieked. "I ain't gonna let you go!"

She screamed as a massive pull wrenched her away from Joker. "Puddin', no!" she shrieked, fighting futilely to get back to him. "Puddin'!"

"Harley!" he shouted, trying to grab her hand. "You gotta take me with you! You can't leave me here alone – I'll go sane!"

"No, puddin', I ain't gonna let it happen!" screamed Harley as she was wrenched back again. "I'll be back for you! I'll never leave you! I promise!"

She was blinded by a flash of light, and then opened her eyes to the room in Tetch's home to see him slamming his fist down on the control panel of the machine she was still attached to.

"Botheration and vexation!" he snapped. "Hang it all and off with their heads!"

"What's wrong? What is it?" she demanded.

Crane was checking Bruce's pulse, who appeared to have lost consciousness. "He's still alive," he said, turning to Tetch.

"Some good news, at least," muttered Tetch, ripping the control panel up and fiddling with some wires underneath it. "No, no, no!" he muttered. "No, damn it all to hell!" he roared, kicking at the machine suddenly.

"Don't break it, Jervis!" shrieked Harley. "It worked! I was there, with puddin'…"

"There was an anomaly in Wayne's brain functions," said Crane, nodding at the monitor attached to Bruce's chair. "A spike and then a dip…Jervis didn't want to risk killing him by continuing with the experiment."

"Who cares if we kill him?" demanded Harley.

"Because if he dies, the Joker dies with him, since he is only alive in Wayne's mind," explained Crane. "Joker needs his body to inhabit if he is to return."

"Can you fix it?" asked Harley. "Whatever was causing the anomaly?"

"I will need time," muttered Tetch. "Time, time, time, time for tea! Always teatime, never earlier or later, bother Time and his scythe and his lateness and rudeness! I'll murder Time!" he shouted, kicking at the machine again.

"Why don't you go brew some tea, Jervis?" said Crane, trying to soothe him. "I'm sure it'll help you think clearer after you've had a cup."

"Tea and time and time for tea," muttered Tetch. "Tea for two and two for tea and three and four and five for tea, and it's a tea party, but no Alice! She's late again, terribly late for tea!"

He continued to mutter to himself as he headed for the kitchen, and Crane unlocked Harley from the chair. "Give him some time to calm down and we'll try again," he said, gently. "Send you back. Mr. Wayne needs to recover too – it can't be easy having three people in his mind at once."

"Every second we wait, puddin' is suffering!" cried Harley.

"And if we're not careful with Jervis, he could explode and pull the plug on this whole thing," replied Crane. "In case you haven't noticed, his mind is in a very delicate, fragile state. If we push him too hard, it could break entirely, and then the Joker would be trapped forever in there. A little patience is surely better than that?"

Harley took a deep breath, trying to calm herself as she nodded slowly. "Yeah. It is."

"But you actually…spoke to him?" asked Crane.

Harley nodded again. "I talked to him and hugged him and kissed him. He's alive in there, and as real as you or me."

"And do you think Jervis's plan for getting him back will work?" asked Crane.

"Yeah, but it ain't gonna be easy," sighed Harley. "We'll need a lot more time than we had in order to find _him_ in there. Brucie's gonna have hidden his true self away in there real carefully. He always did. But it makes sense to me. A life for a life. The only way we can bring back the Joker…is to imprison the Batman in his place."


	9. Chapter 9

Bruce Wayne opened his eyes to see himself still strapped in the chair. But something had happened – he felt different somehow. It was a familiar feeling to the time after Joker's death, a time where he had lost both his oldest nemesis and the love of his life, Talia al Ghul. A time where he had felt empty…and yet strangely full because of the nagging presence of something on his mind…or someone in his mind.

"You should eat something," said Harley's voice. She was seated next to him, and pushed a plate of food forward. "Recover your strength. You're gonna need it with three of us in there – don't want a repeat performance of flagging like last time. Too bad nobody can know your alive, or that'd be quite a scoop for the tabloids – billionaire playboy Bruce Wayne can't finish what he starts. You'd think with all the women you had, you'd have more stamina, but then maybe they were all just beards."

"What did you do?" whispered Bruce. "You…let him out, didn't you?"

"Yeah," retorted Harley. "I did. It was torture keeping him trapped in that cage. But it's no surprise that you're a heartless monster who could torture a guy like that. We always knew the Bat was a sadist."

"The Joker's the sadist!" growled Bruce. " _He's_ the monster! And I had him locked up at last in an inescapable prison where he belongs! Where he can't hurt anyone anymore, not even me!"

"Well, now he's out," retorted Harley. "So I'd start preparing for some hurt, Brucie."

"You have no right to do this!" hissed Bruce.

"Right?" repeated Harley, her eyes flashing in anger. "No right?! You got the love of my life locked up in your head and you tell me I got no right to rescue him?! You had no right to take him from me in the first place, but that didn't stop you from killing him!"

"He killed himself!" roared Bruce. "He injected himself with the Titan, he made me drop the vial with his cure, it was all because of his crazy need for violence!"

"Oh, which you ain't got at all!" snapped Harley. "How does it feel now, Brucie? To hide yourself away in that cave all day, when you yearn to be out among people, breaking bones, crushing skulls, indulging your own crazy need for violence? And you dare to criticize my puddin' for doing the same thing?! You always thought you were so much better than him, just because you never killed anyone! Well, you killed him! You forced me to endure never-ending agony and loneliness! You did to me what that mugger did to you, by killing your parents! And I know you know how it feels to lose someone you love like that! How dare you pretend to be so much better than him, when you did the same thing to me?!"

"Harley, he's evil!" roared Bruce. "And if he gets out, he'll spread that evil all over Gotham and the world!"

"And he'll be loved, Bats," murmured Harley. "Which is something you ain't, and never will be."

Bruce glared at her. "The only people who ever loved you were shot in that alley," continued Harley. "Since then, you've done your best to keep people at a distance, to prevent them from loving you, and you from loving them, since you knew that kinda pain would break you again. You can't get too close to people, because the ones who are close to you, you put in constant danger. And you can't risk the pain of losing people you care about again. Everybody thinks you're so strong, Batman, but you built up this wall to keep people out of your heart because of your own weakness. You don't have the strength to accept love, or return it. So yeah, you may have never killed anyone, but my puddin' is still better than you. He ain't an empty shell of a man. He's got somebody who loves him enough to do anything in the world for him. And that somebody is gonna bust him outta your mind, and replace him with the person nobody will really miss, because nobody really loves. I mean, what made your precious life so worth living, Batsy? You were never happy. Your whole Batman thing was just one long struggle to bring some form of meaning to an otherwise unendurable and painful existence. Now my puddin', he knows what it is to live. He fills every moment with fun and happiness and joy. He's worth a thousand of you, and if you can't see that, if you can't see the sense in trading his life for yours, then you're the crazy one, not me."

"That was a fascinating bit of psychoanalysis, my dear," said Crane, entering the room. "I must say, the one good thing that has come from the revelation of Batman's identity is the endless opportunities for psychological examination. We can see what made the man the Batman."

"Mr. J would say it don't matter," replied Harley. "No one's who you think they are anyway, so why spoil the fun?"

"Well, forgive me for having an interest in what breaks in a man's mind so irreparably that he feels the only way forward is to dress up in a bat costume and attack the socially challenged," retorted Crane. "The study of the mind and its fears is my specialty, after all."

"Did somebody say special tea?" asked Tetch. "I have used that to control minds before."

"Specialty, Jervis, not special tea," explained Crane.

Tetch looked at him and shrugged. "If you must talk nonsense, here is as good a place to do it as any. Now where were we? Ah yes, sending Almost Alice back through the Looking-Glass. It must have been a shocking world you found, my dear, with the White Knight and the chess board land and the Lion and the Unicorn and Tweedledum and Tweedledee and the Walrus and the Carpenter and Humpty Dumpty…"

"Yeah, yeah, there was a lotta crazy people in there," interrupted Harley. "But I know which one I gotta find to get us both outta there."

"Twinkle, twinkle, little bat," said Tetch, nodding. "How I wonder where he's at."

"So that's what you're trying to do," murmured Bruce. "Find Batman. Well, good luck with that, Harley. I'll be fighting you every step of the way."

"Me and Mr. J have beat you in a fight before," retorted Harley. "And we'll do it again. Because we'll be together. And no spiteful resentment of yours can overcome our love. Love conquers all, Batsy. Ain't you ever heard that expression?"

"Yes," retorted Bruce. "But what you have isn't love. It's an unhealthy, harmful obsession."

Harley grinned at him. "I guess we'll see, won't we?" she asked. "If we win, Brucie, you'll know it's love. And if we lose, then it's an unhealthy, harmful obsession. But I think I know my heart a little better than you do."

"And I think I know the Joker a little better than you," retorted Bruce. "He's locked in my head, after all. And he doesn't love you, Harley. In that one way, you're right, we're both the same. We don't know how to love people."

Harley shook her head. "You're wrong. You've always been wrong about us, Bats. My puddin' does love me, he does. And just because you can't understand that, you've always denied that's what it is. You thought it was just a delusion, a fixation, something wrong with me that had to be cured, like all the doctors who ever treated me. But I'll show you, and I'll show them, and I'll show the whole world when I bring Mr. J back with me. It may be crazy, mad love, but it's _true_ love. And it's gonna conquer all."

She took a seat back in the opposite chair, and Tetch strapped her in. He checked the control panel once again. "Yes, yes, a minor hitch, but the glitch is fixed," he said, nodding. "Back through the Looking-Glass you go, Almost Alice."

"Let's hope for no more glitches," said Crane. "Good luck, my dear."

Harley took a deep breath and shut her eyes, her heart hammering in anticipation again. She felt a jolt, and a flash of light, and found herself once more in the huge, dark room with the cells hanging from the ceiling.

"Mr. J?" she called. "Puddin'? I'm back!"

There was no response, and Harley began to panic. "Mr. J! Puddin'!" she called again.

"You came back," said a voice behind her.

She sighed in relief, whirling around to face the Joker. "Course I did, puddin'," she whispered, throwing herself into his arms. "I told you I would."

"I just thought...you might have forgotten about me," he said.

"Why would you think that?" asked Harley, puzzled.

He shrugged. "Just a thing I saw, before I was locked up in here…a thing Brucie showed me to try to break my mind. My death, my grave being covered in weeds and vandalized, people on the radio forgetting about me…"

"Nobody's forgotten about you, puddin'," said Harley, reassuringly. "I wouldn't let 'em."

He looked at her. "You haven't seen the Riddler at all, have you?"

"Riddler?" repeated Harley, confused. "No, he left Gotham after Bruce faked his death. People said the revelation that he'd been bested by a dumb socialite completely broke his mind, and he went to go be a hermit in a cave somewhere. Why?"

He shrugged again. "Just...another thing I saw before I was locked up. Another fear. About you and Riddler, getting together, y'know."

Harley stared at him. "You think I would ever be that desperate that I'd hook up with Riddler, of all people?" she demanded. "I'm kinda hurt, puddin', I ain't gonna lie. First of all, I could never replace you with anyone, and second of all, even if I did, I think I could do better than Riddler! Don't you know me at all?"

"Yeah, it's just…being in here, Harley…it does things to your mind," he said, shaking his head. "You get paranoid, like Brucie. And you begin to be uncertain of a lotta things. If I was out there and free, I know nobody would ever forget about me. But in here…it just seems like a real possibility."

"I'd never let it happen, puddin'," repeated Harley, firmly. "Never. You'll always be the best and most feared supervillain ever, and nobody in Gotham will ever forget about you. I would never let 'em."

Joker smiled. "Harley," he said, pinching her cheek fondly. "I should have known that the fear of being forgotten was groundless with you around. If there's one person who'll always carry a torch for me, it's my Harley girl. Let Batsy do his worst – she'll always come to my aid."

"Always, puddin'," agreed Harley.

He kissed her and Harley let out a sigh of pleasure. "Now how are we gonna get outta here, pooh?" he asked her.

"Easy," she said. "We just gotta find Batsy and lock him up in your place."

"That ain't so easy, cupcake," he said, gesturing around. "Brucie's mind is huge, and he could be hiding Bats away anywhere. Plus it's a dark, scary place, like I said."

"Well, we got time," said Harley. "Jervis promised me the glitch that took me away won't happen again, so all we gotta do is search. We're together now," she said, taking his hand. "So I know everything is gonna be all right. Don't you?"

He nodded. "Yeah, of course it will, pumpkin," he said. "It's just not easy to keep positive in here, like I said."

"I'll help you, puddin'," she said, squeezing his hand. "Now that I'm with you, I feel like I'll never be unhappy again. And nothing Brucie or his dark, horrible mind can throw at us will wipe the smile offa this face."

He kissed the top of her head. "I hope you're right, pooh," he said. "Now c'mon. Let's go on a Bat hunt."


	10. Chapter 10

"Have you found anything, Master Tim?" asked Alfred, as Tim returned from searching the rest of the Batcave. He nodded, holding up a piece of fabric.

"This was torn off by one of the rocks. It was Harley Quinn who took him."

"Good Lord," said Alfred. "But Master Bruce told me she was cured…"

"Apparently not," retorted Tim. "Cured lunatics don't kidnap people."

"But what could she possibly want with him?" asked Alfred.

"Nothing good, that's for sure," retorted Tim. "Even if it's just revenge for Joker again, she was dangerous enough in Arkham City. We need a handle on her location now."

He tapped the comms unit in his ear. "Barb, found anything yet?"

"Sorry, Tim," replied the former Barbara Gordon, now Barbara Drake. "Bruce didn't have anything traceable on him, and there's no footage from the CCTV as to how she got in or came out. She must have come through some part of the cave that we didn't have eyes on."

"Dammit, this is bad," muttered Tim.

"There's no telling what that dreadful woman will do to him," said Alfred. "We have to find him before it's too late."

"Then we'd better get out there and start searching," sighed Tim. "Alfred, contact Nightwing – we could use an extra set of eyes. I just hope Jason isn't out there causing mischief tonight. The last thing we need is a distraction like that when we've got this emergency on our hands."

"Tim?" said Barbara, suddenly.

"Found something, Barb?" he asked.

"I'm not sure," she said. "But there's something going on at the Pamela Isley Memorial Gardens, something you need to check out."

"I just said to Alfred we can't focus on distractions right now…" began Tim.

"Bruce would want you to," interrupted Barbara. "It's Jason, and he's threatening a kid."

Tim let out a heavy sigh. "Ok, keep looking for Bruce, Barb. Alfred's gonna get Nightwing too. I'll be in touch."

Tim didn't know how Bruce did it on nights like these, where it was just one emergency after another, he thought as he headed toward the Pamela Isley Memorial Gardens on Miagani Island. You couldn't do the tasks in order of importance, because they were all equally important. In hindsight, Tim thought it was probably a good thing Bruce's identity had been revealed when it had – if Bruce had carried on as Batman much longer, it would probably have driven him crazy. Tim was certainly eager to get out of the role as soon as possible – once Jason was taken care of, he and Barbara were going on their honeymoon, and then leaving the task of crime-fighting to the police, permanently. If Bruce wanted to continue being a vigilante, he could get out there and do it himself instead of giving orders from the Batcave. If they managed to get Bruce back, of course.

He tried not to focus on the potential tragedy of the future, and concentrate on the present, as he landed on the balcony of the Pamela Isley Memorial Gardens, staring down at the scene below.

Jason Todd was standing there, dressed in a modified Batman costume with an upside-down bat symbol on his chest, resembling Scarecrow's old symbol. He had canisters of fear gas on the wings of his cape, which he would release before he struck at his targets, causing them to hallucinate a giant, shadowy bat creature with burning red eyes and fire. But right now his very presence was intimidating enough as he stood over a small, ragged child, cowering in fear in front of him.

"I said talk!" shouted Jason. "Where are the others?!"

The child said nothing, shivering. Jason raised a canister of fear gas. "You know what this is, right?" he demanded.

The child nodded. "So unless you want a dose of it that'll kill you, you'd better start talking!" shouted Jason. "I know the others are around here somewhere, so tell me where they're hiding!"

"Hey," snapped Tim, dropping down in front of the child. "Why don't you pick on somebody your own size?"

Jason's lips twisted in rage. "It's you," he hissed. "The one Bruce replaced me with."

"Yeah, yeah, you got a lotta issues, Todd, we know," said Tim. "But this isn't the way to work them out. We can help you..."

"I don't want help!" roared Jason, striking out at Tim. "I want to make the criminal scum of Gotham pay!"

"And killing them isn't the way to do it!" snapped Tim. "Bruce knew that…"

"Bruce is dead!" yelled Jason. "And his way of crime-fighting died with him! Now this town needs a new Batman, a better Batman, a darker, more violent Batman who isn't afraid to do anything to save Gotham from itself!"

"Yeah, orphan children are a real threat," said Tim, sarcastically.

"These are," growled Jason. "Haven't you been keeping an eye on things? Don't you know who they are?"

Tim was about to respond in the negative, when the child suddenly put her fingers to her lips and whistled. Instantly a dozen more children emerged from the surrounding vegetation of the gardens, throwing stones and lassos of vines around Jason, trapping him in the foliage. As he struggled to get free, children rushed up and seized the fear toxin from his cape, tossing it into the water of the fountain to destroy it. As they did so, they bowed and whispered, "For Mother Ivy."

Tim stared in astonishment at the group of children who had subdued Jason. They stared back at him with wide-eyes, wary but unafraid. "Who are you?" asked the child who Tim had thought he was protecting.

"I'm…uh…Robin," said Tim. "Who…are you?"

"We are the Children of Ivy," said the child, gesturing around.

"Ivy…had kids?" asked Tim, slowly.

"We are not born of her," said the child. "But we were cared for by her. We were strays and orphans, hiding in parks and gardens to escape from the cold and the cruelty of humanity…Mother Ivy offered us refuge in nature before she passed on to be one with the earth. She taught us the ways of nature, and its superiority to human life. In her name, we destroy that which destroyed her. We hunt the false Batman and destroy his evil toxin. For Mother Ivy."

"Wow…ok," said Tim, slowly. "So you just…live here alone, in the gardens?"

"It is where we feel most comfortable," said the child. "Sheltered by the eternal presence of nature, and Mother Ivy," she said, gently touching the tree that was the centerpiece of the garden. "Can you not feel her spirit surrounding us, growing with all living things?"

"Er…yeah, sure," said Tim. "Uh…excuse me for a second, kid," he said, turning away and tapping on his comms unit. "Barb, I've found a group of kids living in the gardens. They appear to be orphans, and they seem to worship Ivy."

"Seriously?" asked Barbara.

"Oh, they're serious, all right," replied Tim. "They've got Jason tied up without any help from me. I say we leave 'em for now while we continue the search for Bruce…"

"Bruce Wayne?" said the child. "Is that who you seek?"

"Uh…yeah," said Tim, slowly. "You know him?"

"He is underground," said the child. "Beneath the roots of the trees. Far, far underground, but not so deep that nature cannot find him."

"How do you know he's underground?" asked Tim.

"The trees have told us," said the child. "Mother Ivy taught us to communicate with them. Their roots go deep, and deep is where you will find Bruce Wayne."

"Bruce is alive?" demanded Jason.

"For now," agreed Tim. "And apparently underground. Look, kid," he said, kneeling down. "Could you…communicate with the trees and find out where exactly Bruce is underground? We need to find him urgently."

The child nodded. "For coming to my aid, and for helping distract the false Batman, I will help you."

She shut her eyes, laying her hand against the tree. Several long seconds passed in silence, and then the child opened her eyes. "Follow me," she said, leading Tim out of the gardens and toward Storybook Land.


	11. Chapter 11

"I did some wandering around this place before Brucie locked me up," said Joker, as he and Harley walked down the long, dark corridors of Bruce's mind. "Hope I can remember my way around most of it, but it all kinda looks the same – dark and gloomy."

"I wonder how a head even gets like this," said Harley. "I mean, lots of people have personal tragedies, but they don't let the darkness completely take over their minds."

"Well, Bats is a brooder," said Joker. "And when you think about something that hard and long, it begins to overshadow everything. I should know – I've got Batsy on my brain!" he chuckled.

Harley grinned. "It's good to hear you laugh again, puddin'," she said. "I really missed it. Along with everything about you, of course. When I thought you were dead, it was…unbearable. There was…no point to anything anymore. The whole world was just like this, like Brucie's mind – endless darkness and misery. I didn't have anything left to live for. Especially after…after…"

She trailed off, wiping her eyes. "I…lost the baby," she whispered. "I let that bitch Talia take your cure, I…I failed you in every way. And so I guess I deserved you leaving me, but it was still…still…just agony!"

"Hey, kid," he said gently, wiping her tears away. "Don't think about that, ok? That's all in the past."

"Yeah, but it still hurts," she whispered. "I loved that feeling…being pregnant with your child, and after I…lost the baby, I just felt…empty. So empty, like I was just a shell. I should have given birth to a new life, a new life we had created together, and instead I just…lost that life, and you at the same time. I had two lives in me, and I felt complete. And after I lost the baby…and it was just me again…I felt…hollow. I can't ever feel like that again, I'm not strong enough, the loneliness would kill me…"

She trailed off, looking up at him. "When we get you outta here, we can try again, huh, puddin'?" she asked, hopefully. "We can have another baby, huh?"

"Sure we can, pumpkin pie," he said, soothingly. "But first we gotta get outta here. So let's focus on that right now, Harley. Distractions aren't gonna be helpful, especially in this madhouse."

She nodded, taking a deep breath. "I love you," she whispered.

Joker draped an arm around her, kissing her forehead. "C'mon," he said, leading her down the dark corridor.

Harley buried her face in his chest, breathing in the scent of him and listening to his heartbeat. He was alive, and real, and here, and they were gonna be together forever this time…

They suddenly emerged into a dank, dirty alley with rain pelting down on the stones in front of them. "Where are we?" asked Harley, looking around.

"Crime Alley," said Joker, nodding at the sign. "A huge part of Brucie's mind, with the whole dead parents thing. Look, there they are now," he said, pointing down at two corpses lying on the rain and blood-spattered stones.

"Sometimes you can pick 'em up and make 'em do voices, like a ventriloquist's dummy," continued Joker, kneeling down next to the bodies. "Watch, I'll get Brucie's father to say he's hugely disappointed in his son…"

"No, Mr. J, let's just move on," said Harley, shivering. "This place gives me the creeps."

Joker shrugged. "If I were Batsy, this is where I'd be hiding," he said. "There'd be a kinda poetic justice to it, his life ending where it began. But obviously that'd make it too easy for us. And the guy's got no sense of poetic justice anyway," he sighed.

"What are some other meaningful places to Bats?" asked Harley.

"Well, Arkham," said Joker. "But we just came from there. There's Wayne Manor and Wayne Tower, but that don't seem likely places for Bats to hang out."

"I guess we should search places really relevant to him," agreed Harley. "Or at least, we should start by searching those places first, and then if he ain't there, we can go with the less obvious places, like Wayne Manor and Wayne Tower."

Joker thought for a moment, and then snapped his fingers. "Got it!" he said, chuckling and pointing toward the horizon. "Ace Chemicals! It's really relevant to me and Batsy – his life didn't really begin until he had me to tango with! And it's got tons of places to hide, tons of dark corners for Batsy to be hanging out in!"

"Good idea, puddin'," said Harley. "But you'll have to lead the way - I've never been there before."

"Never been to my birthplace, eh?" chuckled Joker. "That's a crying shame, Harl. Well, hopefully you'll get to see it and the permanent incarceration of Batsy at the same time! C'mon, kid," he said, taking her hand and leading her out of the alley. "I've got a really good feeling about this!"

…

"Down there," said the child, pointing down the hole underneath the hookah-smoking caterpillar.

"Thanks, kid," said Tim. "Uh…is it ok if we get the police to pick up Jason?"

"Do what you want with him," said the child. "But if he attempts to use the horrible gas that killed Mother Ivy again, we will show him no mercy."

She shut her eyes suddenly, and then opened them, her eyebrows narrowing. "There is more of that horrible gas down there," she murmured.

"No, kid, wait!" began Tim, but she had already jumped down the hole. Tim scrambled after her, landing in the tunnel with the decaying bodies.

"Holy…" he muttered, but the child seemed unfazed by this, hurrying down the tunnel toward the door. Tim leaped forward, grabbing her arm before she could reach it. "Just wait here, kid!" he hissed. "We're clearly dealing with a psychopath! You can't just rush into danger like that!"

"Mother Ivy will protect me," replied the child, calmly.

"I admire your optimism," said Tim. "But just wait here for a second, ok?"

He tapped his comms unit again. "Barb, we've got a location, but it looks to belong to a real dangerous nutjob. I'm guessing from the Alice and Wonderland thing that it's Tetch, but he's clearly completely lost it."

"Why would Harley and Tetch be working together?" asked Barbara. "And what would they want with Bruce?"

"Who knows?" said Tim. "But the kid also says there's fear gas, so that might mean Crane too."

"Tim…with Tetch's mind specialty, you don't think…they're trying to get Joker outta Bruce's head?" asked Barbara, slowly.

"We won't let that happen, Barb," said Tim, firmly. "Contact Alfred and get him to send Nightwing to my location. I want backup on this before we go in, and even though the kid assures me Mother Ivy's gonna protect us, I'd rather have a little more flesh and blood on my side."

"You got it," said Barbara. "Be safe, Tim. I love you."

"I love you too," said Tim.

"We should attack now," said the child, glaring at him. "Every second you waste, Bruce Wayne could be in danger."

"And if you think I'm going in there alone with two, possibly three homicidal lunatics, you've got another think coming," retorted Tim.

"You won't be alone," said the child. "Mother Ivy is watching over us."

"Yeah, that makes me feel better," sighed Tim. Then he paused. "Wait…if Ivy taught you to communicate with plants…did she teach you to control them too?"

"You don't control plants," retorted the child. "But you can ask for their help, if you treat them like equals."

"So these roots," said Tim, gesturing around. "You could…ask nicely, and the tree might use 'em to…attack the people inside that room?"

"I could try," replied the child, nodding.

"Do that," said Tim. "Please," he added. "And then when Nightwing gets here, we'll have both the advantage, and the element of surprise. I just hope it'll be enough."


	12. Chapter 12

"This ain't a very cheerful place, puddin'," commented Harley, as she looked around at the dark, ugly surroundings of the Ace Chemicals Plant, the only light coming from the bubbling green chemicals in the vats surrounding them.

"Oh, it's got a certain industrial charm!" chuckled Joker. "Plus it's my birthplace, so it's the happiest place on earth! Eat your heart out, Disneyland!"

"Does seem like the kinda place the Bat would hang out, though," agreed Harley. "So let's get searching."

Joker cleared his throat as they climbed the stairs onto the platforms above the vats of chemicals. "So let me get this straight, pooh. The deal is, we lock up Batsy, and I come back with you?"

"That's what Tetchy said," said Harley, nodding. "He says only one of you can inhabit the body, so if you want that to be you, you gotta lock Batsy up in your place."

"So Batsy will be…gone," said Joker, slowly. "Banished to that tiny corner of my mind where Bruce kept me, locked up in a little box forever."

"Yep," agreed Harley. "Good riddance, if you ask me."

"Yeah," said Joker, slowly. "See, the thing is, pooh…I mean, I'm really, really grateful for you coming to get me and all, and I wouldn't have wanted to stay locked up in that cell for another second, but…I'm just not sure how great it'll be to be back out there in Gotham if…there's no Batsy out there too."

"What do you mean?" asked Harley, turning to look at him and frowning. "There'll still be plenty to do – lots of fun crimes to commit…"

"But without Bats, crime has no punchline," said Joker. "I mean, what's it been like without him in Gotham since he faked his death? Suicidally boring, I bet."

"Well…there's a new vigilante on the scene," said Harley. "Some guy who frightens criminals to death in a bat costume…"

"An impostor, pooh," sighed Joker. "Some pale pretender to Batsy's throne. It just wouldn't be the same."

"But it's the only way for you to come back, puddin'," said Harley. "And you can't stay locked up in here forever – you said yourself it was a fate worth than death."

"Yeah, but I just don't see that there's much for me out there without Batsy," he sighed.

"What about me?" asked Harley. "We'll be together. We can try for a baby again. Surely that's more important than Batsy? I mean, you do love me, right?"

"Sure I do, kid," he said. "But there's more to life than love, isn't there?"

"Not for me, puddin'," murmured Harley.

He sighed heavily. "Look, forget it. Let's just focus on finding Bats. If locking him up forever is the only way for me to get back, I guess it's a sacrifice I'm willing to make. For my audience, y'know, the people of Gotham. They must have been missing me. And they need someone to cheer 'em up and put some smiles on their faces since Batsy went away."

Harley nodded, beginning to cry again. "Hey, why the tears?" he asked.

"Because I told Bruce we'd both get outta here because our love would conquer all," she whispered. "But you don't even wanna leave without Bats. It ain't me you love. I'm not sure it ever was."

"What are you talking about?" he asked.

"You think your life won't be worthwhile without him, even with me and a baby," she whispered. "Nobody who loved me would think that. If you really loved me, I would be enough for you."

She turned to face him. "Do you want me to go?" she asked. "Leave you here like this, trapped in Batsy's mind? Then at least you'll be together."

"Harley, stop it," he retorted. "Don't be like this. I didn't mean it like that, I'm just…"

"Just what?" she demanded.

"I'm…scared," he retorted.

"Scared?" she repeated. "You ain't ever been scared of anything, Mr. J."

"I know," he snapped. "That's why it's so weird for me. But when I was in Brucie's mind, and Crane shot me up with some fear gas, for the first time in my life…I was afraid of stuff. Afraid of being forgotten, of you going off with someone else, of…the emptiness of my life without the one person who gave me my purpose all those years ago, in this factory."

He tilted her chin up. "Now I ain't saying that purpose can't be changed," he murmured. "But change is scary. It always has been. Maybe starting here and now, I can live a life without my need for Bats…or maybe I can't. Maybe I'll fail. I'm scared of…giving up my dependency on him. I'm scared that I won't be the Joker without him."

"You will be," whispered Harley, reassuringly. "Because you'll always have your Harley Quinn. And the Joker needs his Harley Quinn. Doesn't he?"

He smiled. "Now more than ever, kid," he murmured, kissing her.

"If you taught me one thing, puddin', it's that you can be anything you want to be," said Harley. "You can forge a new identity for yourself, and you don't need to depend on anyone to do that. I made myself into Harley Quinn for you. Can't you make yourself into a different kinda Joker for me?"

He studied her. "I'll try," he said at last, nodding. "You wanna know why?"

"Why?" she asked.

"Because I love you, kiddo," he said, kissing her again.

"Prove it," growled a voice from the shadows. Batman suddenly landed in front of them, his usual scowl on his face. "Prove you love her," he said. "Prove that everything you say isn't just a joke. Prove you can be that selfless. Because I'm betting my life that you can't."

There was a rumble from the shadows, and then a cell landed on the platform in front of them. Batman ripped open the door and then entered. "Lock me in," he said, gesturing to the door. "Lock me in and throw me down into that vat of acid that created you. Because that's what you'll have to do to get out of here. You'll have to turn me into the Joker. As long as I'm in your head, reminding you of what you lost, then you'll never have any peace. You'll be like me – the desire for violence will always be there. The desire to fight me, like in the good old days. The only way to stop that is to kill me, to turn me into you, so you'll have no one left to fight anymore. You'll have to destroy the Batman."

Joker forced a smile. "You think I can't do that?" he chuckled. "You think I ain't waited my entire life to kill you? I can't imagine anything more fun, turning you into me, buddy!"

"Then do it," said Batman. "And all the madness in your head, the madness that I caused, will die with me. It'll just be you, alone with your thoughts, alone with your memories and regrets again, like in that cell."

"You won't be alone, puddin'," said Harley, firmly. "You'll be with me. The madness and fun won't end – we'll spread it together. We'll spread it to the people of Gotham, and the world, and our child. We'll create a world where everybody is always laughing."

"A world without Batman," murmured Joker.

"We don't need him, puddin'," said Harley. " _You_ don't need him."

He turned to look at her. "Yeah…I do," he whispered.

"More than me?" she asked, tears in her eyes.

"Look…I'm sorry, kid," he stammered. "But I can't make this choice. I can't do this. Destroying Batman…it would be like losing a piece of me."

"You can't sacrifice a piece of yourself for our love?" murmured Harley. "After I've sacrificed everything for it?"

"Let me tell you what my life is like, Joker," said Batman. "I sit in a cave all day. I have no one to fight. I'm trapped, trapped as if I was already locked up in a cell. It's a fate worse than death."

"But puddin's life won't be like that!" cried Harley. "He has love! We'll have each other! We won't be alone or trapped, not ever again! And we can keep fighting, if that's what he wants – there'll be other freaks to challenge him! There's nothing we won't be able to do, because we'll be together! You just have to believe that, puddin'," she whispered. "You have to believe that you can be better than Batsy!"

He chuckled. "Sounds crazy when you think about it, Harl."

"And that's how you know it's true," she murmured. "Please, puddin'. Do it. Lock him up, and we can go back together. And we'll be happy and smiling all the time. I promise."

Joker approached the cell with Batman inside, locking eyes with his nemesis. "I'm sorry, buddy," he whispered. "I wish there was some other way."

And he slowly began closing the door…


	13. Chapter 13

"What's taking them so long?" asked Crane, glancing at his watch.

"A mind is a very big place to search," said Tetch. "Bigger than Wonderland and Looking-Glass World combined, and with so many pathways to get lost in. They will probably be some time. I shall make some tea," he said, heading for the door. "Watch the monitors to make sure there's no blip like last time."

Crane sighed, glancing at the monitors' steady beeping. "Like staring at a brick wall," he muttered, reaching for some vials on his belt and refilling the syringes on his hands. He had taken the opportunity, while Tetch had been building the machine, to produce a small quantity of his fear toxin, in case of emergencies, and this time he had also made an antidote for himself to take, in case of similar emergencies like him getting injected with it again. He didn't want a repeat of that experience anytime soon.

"But I suppose it's useful to know its potency firsthand," he sighed to himself. "It's quite an achievement, to make something that damaging. In a better, fairer world, I'd be receiving the Nobel Prize."

"Sorry, Crane, they don't give those for terrorizing people," said a voice behind him.

Crane sighed heavily. "Oh, young people and their lack of education these days – it's truly astonishing," he murmured, turning around to face Tim Drake and Nightwing. "Don't you know, you foolish boy, that Alfred Nobel, the founder of the Nobel Prize, was the inventor of dynamite? A visionary, a man who saw that progress so often involves terror and death. The earth shatters when she evolves – volcanoes, earthquakes, mass destruction. So too when humanity evolves, there must be violence. It is fear that holds civilization back from progressing, fear which I have mastered. And now the earth truly will shatter as Gotham will once again become a City of Fear, but with no savior to protect her this time."

"Guess again," retorted Tim. "Last time you tried that, it backfired on you. You made Gotham a more peaceful place."

"A true visionary sees each failure as one little step closer to success," murmured Crane. "And that success will be so much easier to achieve now that your friend is utterly helpless," he said, gesturing to Bruce, who was still unconscious in the chair.

Tim and Nightwing started forward, but Crane raised a hand. "If you disrupt the process now, you could damage his mind permanently," he snapped.

"Then shut it off," snapped Tim.

"You can't threaten me, boy," retorted Crane. "Anyway, it is not my technology. I don't know how to shut it off without the risk of killing him."

Nightwing approached Crane. "Robin, go find Tetch and bring him back here," he said. "I'll keep an eye on Crane."

Tim nodded, peering cautiously into the other rooms in the hideout. He suddenly jumped back as a scalding pot of tea shattered near his head. "Most rude to crash a tea party!" shouted Tetch. "Most dreadfully ill-mannered! Off with his head!" he shouted, seizing the meat cleaver from the kitchen and swinging at him.

"Ok, calm down," said Tim, backing away. "I just need you to turn off your little mind machine…"

"No, no, no!" shouted Tetch. "There have been too many setbacks, too much botheration, and Alice is still late! I will not allow her to be late again! You will not stop her from coming! I need her!"

"Tim, look out!" shouted Nightwing, as Tetch threw the meat cleaver at his neck. Tim managed to duck in time, but the distraction of Nightwing had allowed Crane to get the upper hand – he sprayed a dose of fear toxin into Nightwing's face. As Nightwing fell to the ground with a cry of agony, Tetch and Tim both leapt forward to grab the meat cleaver again, with Tetch reaching it just ahead of Tim. He grinned insanely as he raised the blade. "Off with his head," he whispered.

And that was when the rumbling started. "God in heaven, what the hell is that?!" roared Crane, as the whole cavern suddenly started shaking.

"Bad toxin," whispered a voice. They turned to see a child standing at the entrance to the cave, with plant roots snaking around her like a sentient creature. "Bad, evil toxin. Bad, evil man who killed Mother Ivy. Nature will make you pay for that. Nature always wins."

"Kid, don't!" shouted Tim, but it was too late. The plant roots burst into the cavern from the walls and ceiling, squeezing around Crane and Tetch and slamming them against the cavern walls. Stones and rocks began to fall from the roof, hitting the machines connected to Bruce and Harley, which began to sizzle.

"Kid, stop it!" shouted Tim. "You'll kill Bruce!"

The child held up her hand to stop the plants, but not before one of the roots burst through the machine, sending alarms blaring through the room and causing the monitors to spike as the system began to crash.

"Too late," murmured the child, emotionlessly. "Too late, I think. He will become one with nature now, like Mother Ivy," she said, turning away and heading out of the tunnel and back up into the night air with the remaining plants trailing after her.

"No!" gasped Nightwing, fighting against the fear toxin as he approached Tetch. "Bring him back…now!"

"But the snail replied 'Too far, too far!' and gave a look askance," murmured Tetch. "Said he thanked the whiting kindly, but he would not join the dance. Would not, could not, would not, could not, would not join the dance."

Crane gave a roar of rage, ripping himself free from the plant root. "I hate plants," he growled, racing over to the machines, whose beeping had become more erratic. He stared at the incomprehensible buttons and then primed the remaining fear toxin in his glove, and injected the needles straight into Bruce's heart. Bruce gave a jolt, and a cry, stirring himself into consciousness. "Come on, Harley!" gasped Crane. "Get out of there!"

…

The cell door had almost closed on Batman when a rush of noise suddenly ran through the factory, and then the vats exploded in a cloud of gas, sickly and yellow. "What…the hell?" gasped Harley, coughing as she choked on it.

"Fear toxin," murmured Joker, who was very familiar with it by now. "Scarecrow's gassed us again."

"Why?" demanded Harley, and then an explosion rocked the whole factory as it began to collapse in on itself.

"To warn us. That we need to get outta here pronto," gasped Joker, staring at the explosions.

"So lock him up and let's go!" cried Harley.

Joker turned back to the cell with Batman, and suddenly ripped open the door.

"I can't do it, Harley!" he cried. "I can't!"

"Puddin', that's the fear gas talking!" cried Harley. "Just fight it! You have to fight it!"

But she was having difficulty fighting her own fears that overwhelmed her mind, the fears that seemed more likely with each passing second – Joker staying with Batman, Brucie's mind collapsing, killing both Batman and Joker, losing her puddin' forever again…

"No!" she gasped, trying to fight against the rising panic and despair. "No, I won't let it happen!"

She seized Joker in her arms. "Just do it, puddin'!" she sobbed. "Please! It's the only way…"

But she trailed off suddenly, her eyes widening with an idea. "No," she gasped. "No, it ain't!"

She ripped Joker away from Batman's cell, leaving it wide open. "What are you doing?" Joker shouted.

"Just trust me, puddin'," she whispered. "You have to trust me."

She grabbed the tails on his coat, tying them around her waist and then wrapping her arms tightly around his chest. "Hold me," she whispered. "Hold me as tight as you can and don't let go, whatever happens."

He obeyed and Harley stared up at him. "I love you, puddin'," she whispered. And she shoved her mouth into his, kissing him passionately as the factory exploded, as the platform they were standing on gave way, and as they both plummeted into the chemicals below…


	14. Chapter 14

Crane's fist slammed onto the control panel, and both Harley and Bruce began to jolt in their chairs as pale blue strands of electricity began to flow through them. "Come on, dammit!" he roared as both Tim and Nightwing held their breath. At last, the bodies were still, and Tim and Nightwing rushed over to see to Bruce as Crane ran over to Harley.

There was no sign of life – no breath came from her lips, and he couldn't feel a pulse in her neck. Crane sighed heavily as he unhooked her from the machine. "Well, at least she's out of pain," he murmured. "And with the Joker now," he said, glancing at Bruce, who was equally devoid of life.

Suddenly, Harley drew a deep breath, her eyes snapping open. She exhaled slowly, looking around wide-eyed. "Harley?" said Crane. "Can you hear me?"

She stared at him in confusion. "Harley…isn't here right now," she murmured.

And that was when Crane noticed her eyes. Her normally bright blue eyes…had turned green.

"Oh my God," Crane gasped. "Joker? Is that…you?"

Harley beamed, a strangely maniacal grin. "The one and only, Craney!" she chuckled.

Before anyone could react, Harley had leapt to her feet, racing out of the room toward the exit. Tim ran after her, but was hit with a punch strangely harder than Harley's usual, one which sent him tumbling to the ground.

"Nice try, Birdie boy!" giggled Harley. "But you'll have to do better than that, or it'll be you I beat to death next!"

She cackled maniacally as she ran into the tunnel and disappeared. "What the hell…did you do?" gasped Tim, turning to Crane.

"I didn't do anything," he retorted. "Harley must have figured out some way to bring the Joker into her body."

"So that means the Joker…" began Tim.

"Is alive," finished Crane, nodding. "And Mr. Wayne is free of him, assuming _he's_ alive, of course," he added, nodding at Bruce's still unresponsive body.

Bruce gasped suddenly, opening his eyes. "Bruce!" whispered Nightwing in relief. "Thank God!"

Bruce Wayne stared around him, trying to remember what on earth had been happening both inside his mind and out. "Joker!" he gasped. "Where…"

"He's in Harley's body now," murmured Nightwing. "And she's gone, Bruce. But we'll find her, don't worry."

Bruce let out a heavy sigh. "No," he muttered. "It was meant to be over. I was meant to end it. I was meant to lock him up someplace where nobody would ever find him, where he couldn't hurt anyone anymore…"

"And we will, Bruce," said Tim, reassuringly. "We will. Maybe you can help us again, huh?"

Bruce stared at him. "You mean go back out there, as Batman?"

"Why not?" asked Tim. "With Joker on the loose, this city needs you again."

Bruce looked around, at the remains of the plants in the hideout which still imprisoned Tetch, who was crying softly to himself, at Crane who had headed over to release him, at Tim and Nightwing, his protegees, his friends…

He nodded slowly. "Maybe it does," he agreed. "Maybe it does."

...

Bruce Wayne walked down the corridors of the asylum named in his memory. He was in disguise, of course, and not in a bat costume for once. He had signed himself in as a Dr. Michael Conroy, an old associate of Dr. Harleen Quinzel, who had wanted to visit her since her relapse. And what a relapse, the doctor informed him as they walked. Harley had always been dangerously unstable, but her crimes were much, much more violent and random than anything she had ever done before. She had somehow learned how to make Joker toxin, and when the police had finally caught her, it was to her laughing hysterically over a bunch of smiling corpses, with the message _Don't be a stranger, Batsy!_ written in blood behind her.

Bruce was shown into the visiting room where Harley sat in a straightjacket behind a thick pane of glass. "You have five minutes," said the doctor, leaving them alone.

Harley grinned at him, an unfamiliar grin on her face, but a very familiar grin on someone else's, as her green eyes shone in delight. "Hello, Batsy!" she chuckled. "No need to dress up in your Sunday best for me, old pal! I'll recognize you whatever your disguise!"

"I could say the same thing," murmured Bruce, staring at her. "Can I talk to Harley, Joker?"

"Not sure why you'd want to, Bats – she's only a dumb blonde!" giggled Harley. "Didn't used to have a thought in her head, but now she has tons, thanks to me! Tons of fun, happy, genius thoughts!"

"I want to talk to her," repeated Bruce. "I want to know why she did it."

Harley laughed. "All right, lemme see if I can find her. She's gotta be hanging around here somewhere, like the useless waste of space she is…"

A few moments later, Harley's eyes changed from green to blue, and she smiled a familiar smile at Batman, a dreamy, adoring smile.

"Hi, Bats," she murmured.

"Harley," he said, quietly. "I hope you're happy."

"Of course I am!" she exclaimed, beaming. "Couldn't be happier! My puddin' and me are always together, always! I proved the extent of my love for him, I've sacrificed everything I have for him, and now I can serve him and see him happy every day! It's a dream come true!"

"Why did you do it?" whispered Bruce.

Harley grinned. "It was the only way, Brucie. The only way we'd all be happy. And now I'll never be empty or alone again. I'll always be with my puddin'. And he can always fight Batman. He'll never have to live without you again, and I'll never have to live without him again. Everybody's happy. Forever."

"Your innocent victims aren't happy," murmured Bruce. "The people you kill, the citizens of Gotham, they're not happy."

Harley shrugged. "I am. Mr. J is. You are," she added, smiling at him. "So everyone that matters is. You got someone to fight again, and something to fight for. Mr. J tells me that other vigilante poser made the criminals scared of Batman again – made you a symbol to be feared, a symbol of terror, a real monster who strikes fear into the hearts of criminals. So you can get back to work ASAP. Mr. J can't wait, Bats. He's been looking forward to fighting you again for a long time. C'mon, you should be thanking me, Brucie! You got your life back now! You can be Batman again, and you won't be trapped in your little cave anymore! You got a reason to live again!"

"And what if I don't play your silly games?" asked Bruce, quietly.

Harley giggled. "You will," she said. "Mr. J knows you will, or we'll keep hurting innocent people together. And you can't just ignore that, Batsy. You could never ignore Mr. J. Which I guess means you can't ignore me now either!" she laughed.

Bruce stood up. "Thousands of people will die," he murmured. "Because of your little stunt. Because you couldn't just let the monster die, or stay locked up in his cage. Thousands of innocent people will die for your love, Harley. So I hope that makes you happy."

Harley grinned, and her eyes flashed green again. "Quite the joke, huh, Batsy?" she chuckled. "Quite the joke!"

Her laughter rose in a hysterical pitch, and Bruce headed for the door with a heavy heart. He knew that laugh – he had heard it in the depths of his mind, and he knew now that he would never escape it.

He left the asylum, passing the cells where Jason glared at passersby, and Tetch sat muttering to himself, and Crane sat with a self-satisfied, smug look on his face, as if he knew he'd be out any day now.

And he was right. The next evening, the news reported a mass breakout from the asylum. It was all happening again, thought Bruce, as he perched on a stone gargoyle with a vantage point of Gotham City, dressed in a modified Batsuit.

He tapped his comms unit. "Alfred, any leads?"

"On the escaped supercriminals? None, sir. But the police are tracking a stolen car in the Kingston district."

"I'm on my way," said Bruce, nodding.

"Very good, sir. Master Tim told me that he and Mrs. Drake have postponed their honeymoon plans again, should you require their assistance."

"No, that's ok, Alfred," murmured Bruce. "Tell them to go. There are some battles I have to fight alone."

He had always been alone at the start, he thought, as he grappled onto a nearby rooftop. And somehow it felt like it was all starting over again.

 **The End**


End file.
